


Double Vision

by kaleidoscope_dream



Category: Natsume Yuujinchou | Natsume's Book of Friends
Genre: Horror, M/M, Mutilation, Yandere
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-27
Updated: 2014-10-27
Packaged: 2018-02-22 19:17:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,702
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2518868
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kaleidoscope_dream/pseuds/kaleidoscope_dream
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Natsume keeps getting 'eyes' in the mail.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Double Vision

**Author's Note:**

> Just in time for the week leading up to Halloween~!

The beginning of a disaster is never pleasant. It starts small, like a crack in a mirror, and then slowly spreads. It becomes tiny spider webs that no longer connect, growing in size until the whole thing shatters.

For Takashi, the starting point is a package. An ordinary box with a familiar address. He thinks nothing of it at the time and carries it to his room. Once there, he sets it aside and attempts to finish his homework. Very little concern is given to package.

He eats dinner, gets ready for bed - and then, only then, does he remember the curious box Touko handed him downstairs. The first strange thing about it, he thinks, is the label. It isn't handwritten, like Natori prefers, but a print-out.

Nyanko-sensei isn't around to question any of it, but Takashi still hesitates to unseal the package. The last 'gift' was an expensive phone. Natori kept insisting he needed one, for safety. And then went out of his way to provide one. Takashi keeps it with him, much like the Book of Friends, because he has no other choice. Natori wouldn’t accept 'no thanks' as an answer.

Eventually curiosity gets the better of him and he cuts open the package. The second strange thing he notices is the jar inside. Covered in dark felt, it blocks out the light. Takashi considers closing the box - he can call Natori in the morning and ask what it is - but it's just a jar. He has a bad habit of connecting everything with the supernatural before he has proof.

He reaches for the jar. It is heavier than it seems and nearly slips through his fingers, but he holds on tightly. With a tug, the string tying it together slips free and the cloth falls to his hand. As sudden as the motion is, Takashi doesn't register the sight in front of him until the sloshing sound of the water reaches his ears.

Again, the jar tilts precariously out of his hand, almost connecting with the floor, but it doesn't. Takashi's grip has become a stranglehold and he instead fears he will crack the glass if he doesn't let go soon. Disgust unfurls in his heart and he feels sick.

Staring back at him from the jar are two small eyes, the color of wheat with hints of swirling green. Nothing but a pair of eyes, dead and flat, awaits him in the package.

He wishes he ignored it and hurriedly puts the jar back in the box. Then he dashes to the bathroom, avoids the mirror, and retches into the toilet.

\--

His walk to school is a quiet one, but Takashi feels uneasy. The hair on the back of his neck has begun to stand on end, and something feels wrong. He takes comfort in the weight of Nyanko-sensei in his schoolbag, a simple reassurance that everything will be okay.

It doesn't change the sinking feeling in the bottom of his stomach, but it becomes bearable. A few more steps and he will have made it to school safely.

"Natsume!" He tenses as someone approaches him from behind, slings an arm around his shoulder and tugs him close. "Woah, you're paler than usual." There is most certainly a frown on his friend's face, and Takashi looks up to see Kitamoto staring back contemplatively. "Everything okay?"

If he says no, what will his friend think? He can't tell him. Asking for help isn't going to help him figure out what the package meant. Forcing a smile, he answers, "I'm fine. I just didn't sleep well last night." It isn't a lie, either. He spent most of the night feeling ill and unable to sleep, afraid of the unseeing eyes in the jar.

He is glad it is a trash collecting day; he had been sure to toss the package into a garbage can as soon as he could.

"Are you sure?" insists his friend.

Takashi pushes him away and sighs. "I am sure. I have anemia," he says, "you know that."

Kitamoto half-heartedly shrugs. "Well, all right. Let me know if it gets worse, okay? Or better yet, get Nishimura to take you to the nurse's office later. You should probably rest." He spots the other boy before he even finishes and runs to meet Nishimura. They exchange words, darting glances back at Takashi.

It seems like he won't escape the nurse today. Not that he dislikes the woman - she is a nice person and treats her patients well. No, what he dislikes is being confined to bed. He hates feeling useless.

He side-steps the pair at the gate and ignores Nishimura's rather loud attempts to get his attention. If he pretends they aren't there, perhaps they will understand.

He doesn't want to talk about it.

\--

After a tiring day at school, Takashi wants nothing more than to go home and collapse in a pile of pillows. He has managed to avoid going to the nurse, due to much promising and insistence, but that means he hasn't rested either.

Regardless, he has a phone call to make before he can go home. He retrieves his phone from his bag and tsks at the scratches on it, no doubt from a bored Nyanko-sensei. He scrolls down his short contact list and chooses Natori's name before bringing the phone to his ear.

"Hello. Natsume? This is a pleasant surprise. Is everything okay?"

Takashi greets him back, but then delays any further explanation with small talk. When he finally musters the courage, he asks, "Did you send me a package?"

"A package?" Natori sounds the right amount of confused that Takashi instinctively believes him. He has to remind himself that Natori is an actor, and it is always better to err on the side of caution.

"Yeah, it had your address," Takashi says, leaning against a nearby fence post. He tries to look as small as possible. There is an unsettling feeling in the air again, like he's being watched, but he has stopped in front of an intersection and there aren’t many other students around. He dismisses his worries as his imagination, leftover paranoia from the package, and adds, "There was a short letter, too. It had your signature."

Beneath the jar had been a note and he had forced himself to read it.

He can recall the eerie red ink and the words, "What do you see?" It has him of edge, wondering what he is supposed to be seeing.

"Natsume? Can you hear me?"

Realizing he has drifted into his own thoughts, he feels his face heat up and lowers it towards the sidewalk. At least Natori isn't here to see. He bites his lip, considering something, and quietly wonders, "What do you see?"

Natori reacts normally with a, "What are you talking about? Is something wrong? Should I -"

"No," interrupts Takashi, shaking his head. He smiles slightly. "Sorry, I just wanted to be sure it wasn't you ..."

"You didn't believe me?" Natori seems disappointed, but his tone isn't surprised. "I don't blame you for being cautious, Natsume. I only ask that if you have to trust someone, why not trust me?"

"It's easier to say than to do," Takashi corrects him. "You know that better than anyone."

Natori hums in acknowledgement before he lets out a short curse and says, "Look, I have to get back to work, but this conversation isn't over. Don't make me come out there, Natsume. I'll call you back later to talk about this."

Takashi bids him goodbye and slips the phone back into his bag. He tips his head back and frowns up at the clouded sky.

It looks like a storm is coming.

\--

At dinner, Takashi feels he can finally let his guard down and relax. Touko is making light conversation with her husband, and the atmosphere is tranquil and welcome. There isn't another package waiting for him and he puts the whole thing to the back of his mind so he can properly enjoy the meal in front of him.

He does just that until Shigeru turns his attention to him and asks, "Do you remember the kitten I had you look after for my friend?" They're nearing the end of the meal and Shigeru doesn't appear as happy as he was a few minutes ago. The older man has shifted nervously in his seat and there is a sad curve to his lips. "Unfortunately, it was hurt a few nights ago. There wasn't any way to save it, and he told me to let you know. Since you - Natsume, are you all right?"

Takashi has pushed away from the table and his chopsticks have fallen to the ground, unable to remain in his trembling hands. "Excuse me," he says, and then hurries upstairs. He wraps his arms around his stomach and closes his eyes and reminds himself that it's over. Whatever sick prank that had been, it's over now.

When he goes to sleep that night, he sets up his futon as far away from the spot the package had been, as if the image of those eyes would follow him into sleep.

\--

In the morning, there is an unmarked box sitting on their front doorstep and Takashi begins to think this isn't something to be ignored. He tells Touko they should turn it in to the nearest police station - perhaps someone had lost it? - but she picks it up and takes it inside first, examining it from front to back.

"Ah," she says a moment later, removing a small card taped to the bottom.

A chill runs down Takashi's spine. A note, _what do you see?_ \- and he shakes his head, quelling his racing thoughts. "What does it say?"

Touko flips open the paper and her expression freezes in place. "I think you need to bring me the phone."

He doesn't go to school that day.

\--

The police are just as confused as Takashi on what could be going on. It's obvious the second pair of eyes, without a jar or preservative, reeks of decomposition and draws their attention first. However, it is the contents of the note that haunt him.

Inside, a picture is glued - a picture of Takashi. It looks recent, but that isn't what really bothers any of them. It is the fact that the sender has drawn over his eyes with red marker, crossing them out, with the message, "I see what you see," scrawled across the heart of the picture.

Takashi is warned to report any suspicious activity immediately, but besides that, there isn't much they can do. If they don't have a culprit to bring in for questioning, they don't have a case. They can only send off the evidence for testing and hope they get results.

It does little to alleviate the fear that has been instilled into the very marrow of his bones. He has lived most of his life being afraid, but this is different.

He can't guess what will happen, can't begin to imagine, and that is terrifying.

\--

Tanuma is the first to ask him the dreaded question on his return to school the next day. It is lunchtime and they are in an empty hallway, right in front of the windows. His friend's gaze isn’t on the school grounds like Takashi, though, and demands to know, "Are you okay?"

The concern is stifling because that is all anyone wants to know lately. Last night Natori was the same way, even promising to be there as soon as filming ended. He has a few more days of peace left before that happens and he does not want it to be spent constantly worrying about how he feels. He already knows how he feels, and he is not okay.

"I'm fine," Takashi tells him, smiling in a way that he knows doesn't reach his eyes, "so can we talk about something else?"

"No," and of course it would be Tanuma refusing to let him get away with that, but Takashi wants nothing further to do with the conversation. "Kitamoto told me about the other day. Are you really anemic?" It is something they have never confirmed with each other, even when they use it as a ready excuse.

Takashi stares at the reflection of his friend and feels like he's seeing him for the first time. The firm set to Tanuma's eyebrows is marred by a crack in the glass, distorting the image until he thinks Tanuma is smiling rather than frowning - and that can't be right. He glances away from the glass, turning his attention to the flesh and blood person beside him, and breathes a little easier when he sees Tanuma is in no way twisted like the window would have him believe.

"I'm not," Takashi decides to admit, "and this has nothing to do with ..." He waves in the general direction of a classroom, pointing out why he can't speak openly, but Tanuma nods and seems to understand.

"Then what's wrong?" Tanuma moves closer, places a reassuring hand on his shoulder - and Takashi relaxes despite himself. There is something about his friend that always keeps him calm, keeps him from falling apart. Perhaps it has to do with sharing a secret or a friendship he doesn't quite understand, but he trusts Tanuma. He trusts Taki, too - but she isn't here today. Actually, he hasn't seen her since...

The creeping fear that something is very wrong settles into his mind like a spider that has found a place to finally spin its web. It twirls and dives and creates a picture within its design that Takashi is afraid to see.

"Where is Taki?" Takashi hears himself ask, voice shallow and slightly panicked. "Do you know where she is?"

"Huh?" Tanuma has him by both shoulders now, keeping him in place, as he says, "She's been out sick since yesterday, Natsume. Now what's going on? Are you coming down with the flu?" He lets go, only to place the back of his hand against Takashi's forehead. "You don't have a fever."

"Yesterday?" Takashi takes a step back, shaking his head. "No one found that strange?"

Tanuma bites his lip and looks away. "Well, it was a little strange, but I -"

"Let's go see her," decides Takashi. "Today, after school."

Again, Tanuma doesn't look his way as he says, "All right."

\--

It turns out that Taki is fine besides the occasional coughing fit and she promises to be at school tomorrow. Takashi doesn't realize how upset he has been until she grasps his hand and tells him everything is fine, that everything is perfectly normal and he needs to stop worrying. He finds nothing at fault with those words, nothing odd, and squeezes her hand to let her know he believes her.

Off to the side, Tanuma suggests they leave soon. Taki needs her rest and Takashi agrees, allowing his friend to lead him out of the room with a hand on the small of his back. A casual and intimate gesture that Takashi isn't familiar with, and yet strangely doesn't mind. He believes this is what trust is and accepts it as such.

"She seems fine," Tanuma remarks on their way home.

Takashi makes a noncommittal response with, "Yeah," while his mind is elsewhere. He is wondering what awaits him tonight. Surely he is becoming paranoid if he has considered even for a moment that someone would harm to his friend.

"I am more worried about you," Tanuma insists. He steps in front of Takashi, blocking the path ahead, and wonders, "Are you going to tell me what's going on now?"

Before Takashi can come up with a reply, his phone alerts him to a missed message. He checks the caller id to stall for time, but the number is what he expects. Natori has been calling a lot lately.

"It's important," lies Takashi, turning slightly to the side and starting to notice how secluded the location has become. Are they going the right way? He can't remember and punches in his pin number to retrieve his voicemail, raising the phone to ear and staying aware of his surroundings.

"Call me back as soon as you get this message, Natsume," he hears Natori's scolding him, and his heartbeat speeds up, flooding his veins, deafening him as Tanuma takes a step or two forward almost angrily.

"Don't ignore me," he sees his friend mouth the words, can understand it clearly despite the sound of Natori's unhappy voice right in his ear saying, "You're avoiding me, aren't you?"

"What -" Takashi starts to say, but Tanuma has plucked the mobile from his grasp and tossed it to the ground. He is speechless, and the unease he thought gone returns with a vengeance.

"Stop keeping secrets and tell me -" Where is his kind friend? This isn't Tanuma, with his patient smile and complacent words, but someone else entirely. " - tell me what is wrong!"

Or maybe, Takashi reasons, Tanuma has lost his patience and is simply driven by concern. He knows what that's like, has done many reckless things when acting for the sake of someone else.

"Okay," Takashi agrees. He bends down, ends his voicemail and pockets the phone. It probably has more scratches. "I'll tell you what you want to know." He only hopes he doesn't regret this decision later.

\--

A lull in the packages over the next few days gives Takashi the chance to breathe, and he starts to think of it as a bad dream. Tanuma has gone out of his way to walk home with him most days, and Nyanko-sensei has been sticking close ever since he mentioned that.

Most likely because his pride as a bodyguard is at stake.

Taki is absent again and again, which bothers him more than he can admit, but her classmates take turns bringing the work she misses and nothing is amiss. He has started jumping at shadows because of this whole mess, and he sometimes imagines blood red words that aren't there. _What do you see?_ they say. Taunting him in his waking hours as much as they haunt his dreams, sapping what is left of the warmth in them.

He has taken to burning incense in his room because if he doesn't he swears he can smell rotting flesh. Nyanko-sensei calls him a fool and often leaves when the overwhelming scent of sandalwood permeates the air so thoroughly he can't stand it.

Takashi has grown to like it, and it pleases him to think he is doing something to ward off any lingering evil.

But as his routine begins to calm him and allow him a small form of comfort, he receives a package unlike the others. Dressed up in a fancy bow and gift wrap, it seems to be a present. Natori's address is there again, hand-printed this time, and the card atop it is nestled against the ribbon as it waits to be opened. This one must be safe, he tells himself, or it wouldn't be here, right?

The tremors in his hands make it hard to read, but Takashi forces the words to make sense before dropping the card and letting out a faint scream. Touko is there immediately, rubbing his back in soothing circles and seeming just as confused, but he brushes off the careful affection for the first time and runs out of the house. He doesn't want to see what's inside the package.

 _Is someone missing?_ asks the sender, and Takashi keeps running until Taki's old-fashioned house comes into view. He stops to catch his breath at the gate and then hurries to ring the doorbell, needing to prove to himself that it can't be true. She can't be...

"Yes?" Taki's father stands at the door, and by the expression on his face, he is a defeated man. Something has happened.

"Taki," he gasps, wiping sweat from his brow. He realizes what he most look like - frantic and somewhat crazed - but it's too late to care. His friend is the most important thing right now. "Please, your daughter. Tooru, is she okay?"

"Natsume-kun?" A teary-eyed Taki appears at the entrance alongside her father and Takashi hugs her without thinking. "What?" She timidly hugs him back and her cheeks begin to redden, but he hardly cares that he is embarrassing them both because she is alive and that is all that matters. "What's wrong?"

He holds her by the shoulders and flatly says, "I thought you were hurt!"

"Ah, no, no. My dog ..." She trails off, unbidden tears streaking down her face. "We just got her and someone - someone gouged out her eyes!"

Takashi's stomach gives an unpleasant lurch, a warning that he isn't prepared to consider the meaning of, but he asks, "Is that why you haven't come back to school?"

Shifting nervously on her feet, Taki isn't the one to answer, but her father. "I think you should come inside, young man, before we talk about that."

They settle in the kitchen, where Taki's mother offers them fresh baked cookies, providing little creature comforts to show she cares. Both her parents seem as deeply on edge as the Fujiwara residence as been lately, and he blurts unthinkingly, "This is my fault."

Taki reaches across the table and grips his hand so tightly that he thinks it might break. "Don't you dare blame yourself. I heard from one of my classmates that you've been acting weird. Has something happened, Natsume-kun?"

"Explain what happened here first," her father rebuffs. "He needs to know. The police mentioned this could be connected to another case."

"Okay." Taki takes a deep breath and lets go of Takashi's hand, drawing her arms back to wrap around herself. "Okay. Well, you already know I was sick, but it was weird how it started. I was taken to the hospital to be sure it wasn't anything serious. The results were baffling. Apparently I was being poisoned."

Takashi rests a clenched fist on the table, using the other hand to ease his headache as he takes all this in. "You were being .... poisoned? How?"

"My dog," she begins to explain. "They found her hair on me and ran a comparison. It was positive. Someone was poisoning my dog and poisoning me in the process. But it was too late." Taki hangs her head, her glistening eyes barely hidden behind the mess of bed hair. "She's gone and I don't know what I'm going to tell Tanuma-kun."

"Tanuma?" Takashi leans forward, curious. "What does he have to do with this?"

"Ah," speaks up Taki's mother instead, "that nice boy, he's the one who gave us Yuki."

Frowning in thought, Takashi wonders, "How long ago was that?"

"A little over a week ago now, right before -" Taki's father stops speaking, a horrified look lifting away the defeat. "You don't think ...? It couldn't be."

"You're right. Tanuma wouldn't do something like that. That's why we need to talk to him and figure out where he got the dog," muses Takashi as he stands and bows. "Thank you for your time."

"Wait!" Taki is standing too, both hands pressed flat on the table as she calls to him. "You didn't tell us what happened to you, Natsume-kun."

"Oh, that." Over his shoulder, Takashi says, "I've been getting eyes in the mail." The words leave a sour taste in his mouth and he wants to be sick. "I'll see you later."

\--

He checks his phone on the way out, noting Touko has called twice and Natori once. It is getting late and she is probably at her wit's end with him, but he starts walking in the direction of Yatsuhara as he dials the landline. She answers after the first ring and yells - insisting he shouldn't be out alone - but after that she listens to what he has to say and finishes with a, "Hurry home." Because knowing he will be with Tanuma has put her mind at ease.

Takashi then scrolls through his contacts and touches Natori's name, holding the phone back to his ear expectantly. There is a click as someone picks up, but there is no greeting. _Strange_ , he thinks, and double checks that he has the right number. Of course it is, but where is Natori's obnoxious _About time you called, Natsume!_ He hits end call, anxious to try the number again. Maybe there is some kind of interference or -

This time the call goes straight to voicemail, and Natsume leaves one. "You idiot, did you forget to charge your phone? I saw you called earlier and thought I'd finally talk to you about what's been going on. I have to make a stop at Tanuma's first, but call me back later tonight or text me. Anything is fine. Just let me know you're alive."

Satisfied, he puts the phone in his pocket and forgets about it. It's not unusual for Natori to be unable to come to the phone; he's an actor, he eats, sleeps and breathes when his manager tells him to. It's a miracle he has a side career to go with that.

The temple is close, but by now night has fallen and Takashi is regretting that he took off without a jacket. He shivers and quickens his pace in the hopes of getting warm soon. Perhaps Tanuma will let him borrow a sweatshirt. These idle thoughts keep him entertained until he reaches the outskirts of the grounds.

Tanuma is outside, sweeping the front path, which he finds peculiar given the lack of light, but he seems quite determined and Takashi doesn’t have the heart to tease him as he approaches.

“Hey,” he calls out softly. There is no need to speak any louder than that in the heavy silence of the temple. He wonders if Tanuma’s father is away again. It sure feels like it. No lights on, only the gentle glow of the lamp posts to guide guests at this hour.

“Natsume,” Tanuma drops the broom in what seems to be shock. “What are you doing here so late?” His friend doesn’t stoop to retrieve the equipment, and Takashi is unnerved by the amount of attention that means he is receiving. “You could have called,” chides Tanuma, breaking out into a smile. He gestures for Takashi to follow him and leads the way inside.

Takashi hesitates in front of the broom, put off by its abandonment, but quietly trails behind his friend not a moment later. As they go, Tanuma turns on the lights and Takashi has to raise a hand to shield his eyes, letting them adjust. He wonders if Tanuma likes the dark.

Instead of ending up in Tanuma’s room, they arrive in the kitchen, where Tanuma asks if he’s hungry. He’s not, having been treated to cookies a short while ago, but he humors his friend and says yes. In the meantime, he takes a seat on the counter and watches Tanuma work, swinging his legs back and forth. It’s relaxing here, and he always enjoys spending time with Tanuma. A familiar routine on days where neither of them have anything important to do.

“I visited Taki earlier,” Takashi decides to break the peaceful quiet, leaning back with both hands propping him up. “She says you got her a dog.”

Tanuma hums as he stirs in the vegetables to go with the quick stir-fry he is making. “How is Yuki?”

A pause, nothing but the sizzle of food slowly cooking, and then Takashi wonders, “Is your Dad here, Tanuma?”

His friend switches off the heat and turns to face him, raising his eyebrows. “Did you have something in mind, Natsume?” It’s as Tanuma pivots to grab the plates that Takashi notices something out of place.

The frame from a pair of glasses peeks out of one of Tanuma’s pockets.

Hopping down from the counter, he walks behind his friend and tugs the glasses out of their hiding place. They look too familiar to be a coincidence. “Are your eyes troubling you?”

The phrase makes him cringe, because he still can see scarlet ink, can still remember the taunt, _I see what you see._

“Something like that,” Tanuma replies. He doesn’t seem worried about Takashi manhandling his glasses, so Takashi unfolds them and puts them on, intending to find out how bad his friend’s eyesight has become. He quickly discovers the lenses aren’t real and begins to suspect another meaning to the glasses, one involving the supernatural instead.

Leaving them on, he helps Tanuma set the table. “Did you get these from Natori-san?” The name causes his friend to stiffen as if he has been reminded of something particularly unpleasant; his smile going rigid. There isn’t any warmth in that frozen expression, and Takashi discovers he is wary of finding out the cause.

“You are asking a lot of questions tonight, Natsume,” Tanuma says amiably, placing his hand on Takashi’s arm and slowly letting it slip lower until their hands meet. He tangles their fingers together and suddenly his smile brightens, no longer fragile and insecure. “Why don’t we eat first and discuss this later?”

“All right,” decides Takashi, “but we are going to have a long talk afterwards.”

\--

Sleepy and content after such a good meal, Takashi has to hide a yawn. Tanuma laughs and collects the dishes, suggesting Takashi rest in his room while he cleans up. “You’re not going to get out of talking that easily,” Takashi mumbles, rubbing at his eyes. He isn’t sure why he’s so tired now, but he grudgingly makes his way to Tanuma’s room.

He is surprised to discover a futon already spread out on the floor, it's a little early for sleep, but he collapses on it and buries his head in the pillow, relaxing maybe a little too much. His eyes drift shut and he considers a nap while Tanuma is busy with the dishes, but he chooses to force himself awake. It's as he struggles to keep his eyes open that he hears in a noise in the room beside Tanuma's.

Since he has nothing else to keep him occupied, he scoots over to the wall and presses his ear against, wondering if he is imagining things again.

It sounds as if something is scrapping the floor, tearing at the tatami mats, but Tanuma doesn't have any pets. Curious, he decides to take a look in the room next door.

But the room is locked..

As he shakes the door, trying to get it to budge, the scrapping only gets louder - almost frantic. A sinking feeling in the bottom of his stomach reawakens the fear from not too long ago. He has to acknowledge that something is strange, something isn't right. Something he doesn't understand is going on.

Takashi becomes aware of footfalls in the distance and stops what he’s doing, his breath caught in his throat. Tanuma rounds a corner and mirrors his shock. “Natsume? I thought you would be sleeping by now.”

 _Sleeping?_ No, that is the last thing on his mind. “Is something in here?” Takashi inquires, knocking on the door. It has gone unnaturally quiet and he is almost certain they have scared whatever it is away.

“There shouldn’t be,” Tanuma mentions with a shrug, “but this place is old. It wouldn’t be out of place to discover a rat or two.” He must have guessed that wasn’t what was bothering Takashi, because he added, “Don’t worry, after what happened last time, I’ve been asking Dad to purify this place as often as he can.”

Takashi is starting to suspect he has overreacted and his hammering heart steadily slows down until he can breathe easier. “Yeah. Yeah, that’s probably it…” His world spins a bit and he places a hand out to get his bearings, his weight shifting to the door. A creak is the only warning he receives before he falls through and hits the hardwood floor.

Rubbing his side, he surveys the damage and notices dry rot on the frame. Not his entire fault then; and Tanuma did mention the place is old. Since he’s here, he might as well check for the source of the noise, but Tanuma pulls him out of the room before he can make out anything in the dark. He tilts his head to meet Tanuma’s inquisitive gaze and frowns. “I’m fine,” he says before Tanuma can ask. “I just want to take a look -”

He has managed to find the light switch, and the sight awaiting him is nothing short of a sea of red.

Bleeding out on the ground is a hunched figure, bound and gagged, and the distinctive honey hair, the familiar coat, the discarded hat nearby – he knows who he is seeing, he just doesn’t believe it.

From behind, Tanuma loops an arm around his waist and covers his eyes with the other, shushing him as Takashi starts to make sense of what is going on and shouts, “Get away!” He digs his elbow into the other boy’s ribs, demanding, “Let go!” This has to be a bad dream, all of it.

“You weren’t supposed to see that,” chides Tanuma, whispering into Takashi’s ear as if conveying a secret. His voice is slightly pained from the blow, but there is prominent amusement to it. “I wanted you to have sweet dreams tonight.”

He is dragged backwards, thrown into Tanuma’s room, and forced to lay on the futon, face first. Tanuma straddles his hips and holds his arms above his head while pressing down on his neck. He can’t breathe and he can’t begin to consider what is going through his friend’s mind. _Nightmare_ , he thinks, _this is a nightmare._

“I don’t want to hurt you, Natsume, so go to sleep for me. Pretend you didn’t see the rat. You can do that, can’t you? You’re good at pretending,” Tanuma says, his lips brushing Takashi’s ear as he speaks. “And lying. Now lie for me, Natsume.”

His struggles to break free, but the lack of air numbs his limbs and he can’t do much more than gasp into the pillow, hopelessly trying to breathe. The scent of incense and rot follows him into the dark that beckons him.

\--

When Takashi wakes up, it is to the sound of his phone going off and he groans, trying to reach for it through a sleepy haze. His arm refuses to do as it’s told, however, and he wiggles it some more before coming to conclusion he can’t move it. As he becomes aware of his surroundings, discovers his hands and feet are taped together, the stunted panic from before leeches into mind, poisoning any rationality he could have mustered.

He breathes in deeply, holds it, and then _screams_. His voice cracks and breaks, giving out halfway. And he knows it is unlikely that anyone will hear him, the temple is such a large place and a distance away from any roads, but he has to do something. If there is even the remote possibility he can attract help by being loud, it is worth a try.

“Awake?” Tanuma peeks in from the door, smiling like nothing is wrong. “Good. Here, tea. That should help soothe your throat.” He helps Takashi sit up and drink with slow sips. The ache in his throat, in his lungs, subsides but doesn’t disappear. A simple reminder that this is reality, as much as he wants to believe it is not.

“Now about that talk we were going to have,” sighs Tanuma, setting the cup aside. “This isn’t how I wanted this to go. You weren’t supposed to find out. I was going to protect you.”

Takashi nearly speaks, but anger stills his tongue. This is too roundabout a way to protect someone and he is appalled. What is he supposed to be protected from?

On the tray alongside the tea, Takashi regards the small, wrapped box sitting there with a mix of horror and realization. “Is that for me, too?”

“Ah, yes. The other half of the gift from before,” Tanuma says sheepishly, rubbing at the back of his neck. There are scratches on his arms, fresh scarlet lines where some have scabbed over. Bile rises in Takashi’s throat.

“No,” denies Takashi, shaking his head. “No, I don’t want it. Please stop this.”

“Did you understand the notes I left you?” muses Tanuma, cupping Takashi’s face in his hands and leaning forward until their noses touch. “Did you consider what they might mean?”

“Why would you do that, why!” Takashi uses the chance for what it is and slams his forehead into Tanuma’s, wincing as a _crack_ echoes through the room.

Tanuma presses a palm against the glaring mark on his forehead and laughs. “So you _have_ thought about it.”

A chant of _nonono_ is the only thing that keeps Takashi from screaming again. He doesn’t know what game Tanuma is playing but Takashi is done with it. This has gone too far. People have gotten hurt. Taki could have died. Natori is bleeding in the next room.

“Let him go, Tanuma.” He is proud that his voice does not waver, does not shake or give away how afraid he is. “He has nothing to do with this.”

“I have to disagree.” Tanuma picks up the box and twirls it. “He has everything to do with this.”

“You can’t mean that.” It’s absurd to think, but could he have? “Don’t tell me you were jealous.”

“Not exactly.” Tanuma plucks at the gift wrap, humming as he tears it apart. “You see, he doesn’t like me, but he likes you a lot. He wants you to be happy. He suggested I do something to get your attention. And then he had the nerve to back out when he realized what I was doing. He said he would help, and yet he wasn’t willing to do much.”

“Why …” Takashi swallows around the lump in his throat. “Why the eyes?”

“You have beautiful eyes.” The lid of the box falls off as Tanuma holds out the gift for Takashi to see. “His can’t compare.”

“Oh god,” Takashi gags, averting his gaze. “He needs a hospital, Tanuma. He could die. He can’t die.”

“He’s already dead, Natsume. You can’t save the dead.” The box hits the floor and an eye rolls across the mats. “Now, do I have your attention?”

Takashi answers with a weak, “Yes.”

“Will you run if I untie you?”

“No,” promises Takashi.

“Liar,” Tanuma says, lips curling upwards in delight. “I want to know everything about you. So don’t you think I know when you’re lying?”

“How?”

“Your eyes.” Tanuma runs his thumb underneath one of them. “They’re expressive. Just like you.”

“Then what do you see?” Takashi demands through gritted teeth. “What can you possibly expect to see?”

“Hey, Natsume, you know what it’s like to be possessed?”

It’s as if ice is surging through his veins when Tanuma slides his hand to the back of his exposed neck. He wants to reply, to say he knows what that’s like, because things are becoming clearer. But Tanuma steals his words with a beguiling kiss, and he has to reevaluate in what way Tanuma meant that.

“Don’t,” Takashi pleads, and Tanuma doesn’t.

“You want to know what I want to see in your eyes?” Tanuma repeats the earlier rhetoric. “It’s easy to guess. I want to see me. I want you to see me.”

And just like that the shards shatter and break, a nightmare bleeding into reality. A price to pay for allowing anyone close, allowing someone to step foot in his world when they shouldn’t have been there.

“I see you,” quietly, like glass hitting the floor, Takashi speaks. “So please, call an ambulance for Natori-san. Then we’ll be alone, just you and me. No one else.”

Tanuma clucks his tongue, considering. “You do have a point. And you’ll lie for me?”

“If you can promise not to hurt anyone else.” He cringes as his voice wavers. “Promise me that and you can have anything you want.”

“Anything?” The appeal of that phrase works its intended magic and Tanuma agrees to place the call. “For that, it’s worth trying to save a dead man.”

**Author's Note:**

> My first attempt at writing something this creepy and I am having mixed feelings about it. On one hand, it's interesting to try new things, and on the other ... horror is not my usual go-to for writing. 
> 
> I'm left feeling this isn't quite as finished as I wanted it to be. (It was only supposed to be a oneshot! It turned into a monster.) So I'm toying with the idea of three more parts to go with this, but we'll see.


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